


Last Resort

by JohnConstantine



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Pretending To Be Married, fake married
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-30
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-10 13:05:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1160071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JohnConstantine/pseuds/JohnConstantine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a monster uses a couples retreat as a slaughterhouse for victims, Castiel and Meg are elected to go undercover, taking the guise of newly weds while Sam and Dean work under cleaning services. Slightly NSFW. Slight AU, since Meg isn't dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_"You know what you're supposed to do right?"_

_"Yes, you've been over it several times already, Dean."_

_"Don't use that tone with me, Castiel."_

_"It's not my fault you can't remember our conversations."_

_"Ha."_

_"Shut up Meg."_

This was not at all how Castiel expected it to be. It made him uncomfortable, the amount of human contact he received from people, the close quarters and the face that he could have sworn he saw one of the other wives and several of the husbands staring at Meg, making small tingles of jealousy trickle through him.

It also didn't help that she was with him on this case. Though he understood why, he was the only one who actually got alone with Meg long enough to spend three days with her in a tiny hotel room in Palm Beach, let alone not kill her before they got a hold of the monster who ran the facility.

He had to admit, it was clever. It had assembled the perfect feeding ground; beautiful beachfront property, coupled with somehow being able to throw the police off its trail (Dean suspected that it had one of its accomplices stationed there, probably a few worshipers too), but a surviving wife had pointed them in the direction of the resort as the last place she saw her husband alive; a fight sending her home early only to have her husband never return.

They were still unsure as to what it was, and honestly Castiel didn't care. It was an excuse to relax, which he rarely had anymore and after being human he'd learned that he enjoyed letting himself go from time to time.

Swallowing nervously, he felt Meg lean farther into him, trying to ignore the way her elbow was shoved into his vessel's genitals, wishing that both that pressure and the "mandatory bonding sessions" that went on once a day and were overseen by a "famous" marriage counselor who ran the resort. It was almost enough to wish he could just zap away and force either Sam or Dean to take his place.

"And how about you two?"

Castiel jumped, not expecting them to put him and the demon under the spotlight when the others were busy talking happily among themselves.  _So close to not having to talk to these people._

"About us what?" Castiel said quickly, not wanting anyone to know he actually didn't care at all about whatever they were talking about.

"Go on, Clarence, tell 'em how long we've been hitched," Meg answered for him, slapping his chest with the back of her hand. He felt the strong teasing in her voice, neither of them nor the Winchesters had known that this obnoxiously silly sessions would happen in the manor common room, so he didn't have the necessary answers he would need. And it didn't help that Meg was enjoying his obvious discomfort in talking to people with obnoxiously strong accents that annoyed him.

"A few ah, months," he glared down at her, trying to ignore the way her full weight was now pressing into him. "Though now I'm having second thoughts about this entire arrangement."

"Nah, you love it," Meg said, jabbing into him further just to see him squirm.

"Oh," the woman who called him blinked. What was her name, Kelly? Kelsey? Stacy? He didn't care.

He was about to sigh in relief and excuse himself when the woman started talking again. "Well, Kevin and I have been together for years. We just wanted to take a little time to ourselves."

"Wonderful."

She continued on, rambling about her job or kids or something else he had no care for. She went on and and on and he barely listened, hearing a low snore rattle from Meg's throat and debated on lifting his knees to roll her on the floor. At least he only had another thirty minutes of this.

He just started to relax again when the same woman decided to loudly share her iPhone videos with the other three couples and the angel let out a soft sigh, quietly regretting this entire hunt.

* * *

This was definitely freaky.

Though it could have all be decoration, the Egyptian stuff was a little weird. Especially since what was in the room weren't little knick nacks from World market. They seemed to be actual, real relics that loomed over the offices walls and the lone desk in the center. Definitely not normal.

"Do Egyptians even have monsters?"

"Think it could be a god?"

"I dunno," Dean muttered, looking through the desk in the resident counselor's desk, looking through letters and bills and frowning when he found nothing. "What kind of god rips out their victim's hearts and eats them?"

"Uh, all of them, Dean."

"Shut up," Dean muttered, picking the lock to the drawer and clicking his tongue when he pulled out a huge text from the back. It was old and dusty, and judging by the white sticker on the spine, probably stolen. "Well, hello there."

"What you got?"

"A text on Egyptian gods. This guys's got a bit of an obsession."

Angling the flashlight awkwardly Dean flipped though the pages and tried to balance the heavy book on his arm. Nothing so far on a god that eats vacation couples. Hey uh, what about the owner again?"

"Terry Salvage, fifty three, a marriage counselor, founded the resort after his wife died. Had nothing better to do I guess."

"Real one percent-er huh."

Hearing Sam shuffle around behind him Dean gave up on the book, stuffing it back in the dust-lined drawer and let his arms fall in defeat.

"We got anything on the wife at least?"

"Uh, other than the fact that she and Terry were getting a divorce a few months before she was murdered," Sam said, pulling her folder out from where he'd hidden it under the cleaning supplies on his cart. "Salvage had an alibi and her killer was never found. But she was just like the resort victims, heart ripped out, patient zero."

"Damn. Guess he didn't take his own advice huh," Dean joked, ignoring the scowl Sam shot him before pulling out his vibrating phone from his pocket.

"Just got a text from Cas, says the sessions over and Salvage should be heading back to his office."

"Since when could Cas text?"

"Since now apparently."

"Well, good news is we have this," Dean smirked, fishing a little black object from his uniform's pocket and tapping his fingers over it.

"A bug. How did you get that?"

"Apparently the Men of Letters were very paranoid," Dean answered. "Also Charlie showed me how to get 'em working. We'll be able to hear him from Cas and Meg's room."

Sam shrugged, not really caring so long as it worked. He watched Dean sticky tack it under the desk before holstering his flashlight and grabbing his cleaning cart, leading Sam out of the office and being sure to lock the door back. "You go left, I go right. meet up in Cas and Meg's room after shift."

"Got it."

The brothers parted ways, Sam passing by the rich older man and watching him as he headed down to his office, muttering something about being late.

Yeah, something was definitely up with this dude.

* * *

"Thank you" Castiel muttered, graciously accepting the wine meg had poured him. It was always the late afternoons there were best, he decided, after being here two days and having boredom plague him he was finally glad to be alone with the demon for the rest of the night and morning. And it wasn't like meg didn't have her fair share of boring, always complaining about the smelly humans that made the days go by slower than they should.

"So they think it's this Terry guy?" meg asked as she took a seat beside him, sipping her own wine and enjoying the way the sea breeze seemed to blow away the smell of sulfur. Even a demon could get tired of her own smell.

"As far as they know, Dean thinks he's an Egyptian god."

"And what do you think?"

"My knowledge of other gods is more or less scattered," he admitted, taking a generous sip of some hundred dollar wine that he couldn't even taste. "The only time I was involved in Egypt was when I was only several centuries old and I can barely remember it."

Meg didn't question why he sounded so bitter about that.

"I was only there to perform God's will. And what I know about the humans their gods of the time is very little. I also never cared to know."

"Hmm."

He watched her swirl the glass, obviously thinking and he watched the light from the setting sun glint on the surface of the fake ring she wore. it made him toy with his own, the last he wore one himself was when he was married as the healer Emmanuel, and even then it felt strange on his hand. He knew what it could mean to humans and strangely it felt almost normal to refer to her as "wife".

It made him consider things since she'd returned. Meg was more reserved, less into fighting and more into simply hiding and gathering her strength. She knew she lost her war and now that Abbadon had killed Crowley she had to change her causes.

He just never expected that cause to be him.

"You know, we still have a few hours," Meg said suddenly, downing her glass of wine and happily pouring herself another. "And they gave us toys."

"I didn't expect you to want to use them," said softly, looking at the gift basket they were given upon entry. A lot of the rubber things in there had made him uncomfortable and meg's obvious excitement made him feel even worse. "Or at least I hoped..."

"Mmm," Meg poured him more wine, knowing that even the entire bottle wasn't enough to get an angel drunk but suddenly it seemed she didn't care. "We can do it without the toys if you want."

"I'd prefer it."

That seemed to be what she wanted to here before she kissed him, lips tasting like alcohol and cinnamon and Castiel kissed her back with the same eagerness she showed him.

"I'm starting to think they know," she said then they broke, slowly taking his glass from his hands to set it on the nightstand, "'Cause I doubt they'd let us stay alone for so long."

"I think they just know we wont kill each other," Castiel said simply, feeling her pluck at his button down.

"Such blind faith in humans."

"Mmm," Castiel muttered, pulling her down to kiss her again, letting her unbutton his shirt finally before she slipped out of her sundress. Playing tourist had been easy enough, but Castiel still was not used to being so exposed in the button down and shorts Dean had forced him to wear.  _Better to blend in instead of sticking out like a sore thumb_ , he said,  _plus, it's Florida, you'll look fucking stupid in that coat_.

Sitting up he watched meg straddle him over his lap and he focused his mouth on her breasts, teeth biting at her lace bra and tugging, her nails going into his hair and clawing down his scalp. He felt her lean back and watcher her unstrap her bra and drop it at the side of the bed, Castiel moaned and dragged his teeth gently over her soft skin and sucked a mark on her skin, a way of claiming her and she returned it by causing her own marks to rest on his vessel's skin.

It was a strange clash when they both finally undressed and Castiel had her pinned down on the bed, mouth on hers and hands holding her tight and close against him, wanting her and letting her know just how much that want was pouring out of him.

Feeling her legs wrap around his waist he moaned as he sank himself into her, bracing his head against her shoulder and thrusting into her.

The demon responded with dragging her nails down his side, little pink marks following her trails. Sweat was already sticking Castiel's hair up where she mussed it despite the ocean breeze that rolled into the open window but he didn't let it bother him much. He was too focused on his thrusts, on making her cry out his name and he responded to her in Enochian, muttering nonsense words and bracing his arms against her. Meg had rolled her head back, taking him in and letting him ram her again and again, the demon keeping up with his rhythm and kissing him again, distracting him just enough that he became more sporadic.

Breathing in her sulfur scent Castiel moaned against her lips. Sex had become a constant since they began their relationship, somehow being able to keep Sam and Dean out of the loop, and Castiel enjoyed the way Meg taught him about sex and the desires and needs that came with it. maybe they sensed it, maybe it was why they made the two of them act as a couple. Or maybe it really was because they worked best together. Either way...

Castiel had enjoyed these times with her. Even pretending to be married and human had a sort of _ring_  to it that Castiel seemed to enjoy. They were awkward in public but when no one was watching it seemed to be something they enjoyed.

It was awkward at first, referring to meg as wife, but he found comfort in it and even enjoyed when she called him husband. It would be temporary, but he enjoyed it enough to discuss it with her when the hunt was over.

"Clarence!" Meg's voice shook him from his thoughts and he stared down at her, blue eyes blinking. "You just gonna sit there?"

"Did...did I stop?"

"Like an hour ago," she muttered, brushing his sweat slicked hair from his forehead. "We have a limit."

"I'm sorry," he muttered, sighing before rolling off her.

"You're done?"

"Honestly I never really started."

"Wow."

She watched him stay on his side, blinking at her and watching the creeping moonlight color her pale skin. "I can hear the phones and the radio," his brow creased, "Sirens coming. Another couple has been attacked."

"Wonderful. That better be the reason you stopped."

He shrugged. "Sam always says work before pleasure," he gave her a small, apologetic smile. "We should go see if we can find anything. Dean and Sam should probably already be there."

He watched her huff loudly before standing up, legs shaky and with an even louder groan she fished his shirt off the floor and tossed it in his face. "You owe me, angel."

"I know," he replied, watching her dress and almost forgetting what he was doing. "But we're not on vacation."

Meg smirked. "That's a little below an angel and demon, isn't it?"

"It is."

"Still nice though."

"I agree."

Luckily Meg had her dress back on and Castiel was quick enough to flip a sheet over his lap before the annoying woman from the session earlier just flung the door open, ignoring the supernatural pair's glare and apparently not caring for common courtesy.

"They killed the Duncans!" she shouted, fear loud in her voice. "They're gonna lock down the resort!"

And just like that she took off running, Castiel looking at meg with a sort of curiosity that made her sigh.

"Get dressed, Clarence," Meg said, heading out the door. "The faster we get this stupid case done the happier I'm gonna be."

* * *

Terry Salvage was on the verge of panic.

He knew someone had been in his office, he could tell when  _she_  told him they'd been in there. Those new cleaning boys, the ones that were way too pretty to be working a job like that. Too smart too, he heard the short one talking to one of the resort guests and he knew they had to know something was happening.

Forcing himself to calm down, Terry sighed as he shoved his head in his hands, spinning slightly in his chair. She would be hungry soon, and he needed to act. It was the whole reason the resort had those special sessions, choosing victims for her, seeing the ones whose hearts were impure and tainted.

The Duncans, now they were special. Constantly fighting at home, Greg was jobless and Miranda did all the working. Miranda had a gambling problem and Greg slept around out of boredom. It was when Greg won the resort trip to win back his wife that they came here. Little did she know he won by spending their entire savings account to win. Lies, sins.

_Shoulda just bought the tickets, Greg._

A low growling sound made him jump, and Terry spun his chair to face her, seeing her red eyes and her sharp teeth.

"I- I brought these for you," he whispered, holding up a plastic bag filled with blood and disgusting human matter. She looked at the bag, looked at him, and smiled, her fangs bright white despite what he knew she ate. "Will you let her go now?"

The monster hissed, and he deflated, knowing just what that meant.

"Please, I can't...I can't keep hurting these people."

Another growl.

He had no idea how he could understand her, but her grunts and growls translated to exactly what he understood and he sighed. "They look suspicious and I can't just keep-"

She let out a furious hiss and vanished, hearts gone from his hands and he groaned, leaning back in his chair and forced himself to his feet. He felt so worn and with a quick glance to the frame sitting on his desk he sighed and rubbed his face, ignoring the face that he was probably smearing red across his tan skin. "I'm so sorry. But I need you back."

Sitting back down at his desk, he pulled out the next couple he'd chosen as sacrifice. A strange duo, preferring to be alone but yet were close. But with the gift she'd given him, she could see that both their hearts were heavy with sin and impurity. With a red sharpie and another sigh, he put a red "x" over the Novak's faces, grabbing the hilt of the ceremonial knife and preparing himself to do what he had to.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry for the late update, I'm a very lazy bastard. Part three will be posted asap**

* * *

Blood was everywhere. On the walls, the floors, the bed. If he were human he expected he would be shocked by such a sight. But as an angel he simply waited, not bothered by the gore and oblivious to the shocked humans that crowded around him

Keeping Meg close beside him, Castiel took as much as he could in behind the police tape and the obnoxious hat some person was wearing in front of him. He could hear meg mumbling beside him about not being able to see and he could hear Sam and Dean's voices on the other side of the tape.

All of this was very, very strange.

Trying to get a better look he was bumped back by the man in front of him, watching the other guests back away as a police officer forced them back from the room, leading the others down to the common room.

"Sir you need to get back," a voice tore him from where he was staring into the room and a small woman in an officer's uniform was politely shoving him away.

"But I-"

"Clarence," Meg yanked his arm. "Nothing we can do right now."

He felt that sense of dread as Meg dragged him into the common room with the others, already tired of so much social involvement that he was glad when Meg pulled him aside and handed him a fruity drink.

"I can go to the scene later," he muttered as he took a sip. "Once they spread out around the hotel I'll see what they found."

"Gonna go all Invisible Girl huh?"

"I still don't know who that is."

"You never watched Fantastic Four?"

"Dean said it wasn't really that fantastic so I never invested the time," Castiel paused, watching her and raised an eyebrow.

She snorted. "That was terrible."

"I still tried."

She smirked up at him and Castiel couldn't help but feel a little pride in that he could at least, out of anyone, amuse her with his lame attempts at humor.

"So ah," Meg started when she finished her drink. "You're pretty good with whole fake married thing. Almost makes me glad it was you I got stuck with."

"Well I have been married before. Experience does tend to enhance performance."

"Forgot about that," Meg pressed into him, Castiel's eyes widening at her touch. "Bet it doesn't remind you too much about it or at least the experience is different."

"It is, more to the point that I had no idea what I was getting myself into, and that I couldn't remember who or what I was."

"And now?"

"This is pretend. But it is easier."

"Right."

"Why the questions"

"Eh, just curious, feathers," she muttered, brushing some kind of invisble dirt or crumb off his shirt. "I guess I was kinda having fun."

"You spent two days crushing my genitals and going on about how you hated everyone here," Castiel reminded her, "as well as endlessly going on about how you could torture each and every person in here."

"Exactly, fun."

Frowning as she handed him the rest of her drink and stalked off somewhere, not bothering to ask where, Castiel sighed and finished it off.

* * *

"Sumner and Copeland," Dean waved his fake badge at the officers standing guard at the scene, glad that he and Sam were able to ditch the workers outfits finally and step into the scene.

Adjusting his jacket to try and alleviate the Florida heat Dean whistled at the mess, watching Sam look around in the corner of his eye and stepping up to the detective running the case.

"Agent Sumner," he said, flashing the badge again.

"FBI, really?"

"Undercover," Dean said quickly.

"Whatever," the detective grumbled as he tapped a body with a probe. "Anyway, just like the others, hearts are missing. Unlike the others, they've been killed here."

"The other bodies weren't found here?"

"Nope, last one was outside the airport, others were dumped in the woods a few properties away, and now we have this in here. makes us pretty sure the killer's here so right now everyone's a suspect."

"Where's the resort owner?"

"Gone, makes him suspect number one."

"Don't doubt it."

"Have any idea what did this"

The officer sighed. "Far as the coroner knows, a big, sharp knife strong enough to tear the rib cage, skin, and muscles open."

Dean blinked. "Not an animal?"

"Nah, recent autopsies show that it's some guy killin' these poor folks. Rippin' 'em apart and taking the hearts as trophies."

"Right."

"Dean get a look at this," Sam's voice called out and he thanked the detective to join his brother. "Look at this."

A symbol was drawn on the wall beside the bodies in blood, some strange thing that took Dean a moment to recognize.

"Hey I think I saw something like that in Salvage's office," he said, crouching beside Sam to get a better look. "Yeah, saw it in that book."

"Do you know what it is?"

"Sign of Ammot. Ammat? One of those two."

Sam's eyes widened. "Ammit?"

"Yeah."

"Dean, Ammit was an Egyptian demon, specifically a devour of hearts. She was right there with Anubis. When a person died and went under judgement, if their heart was too impure, it would be fed to Ammit."

"Wait," Dean tilted his head, "You know that much about Ammit but you didn't know that this was her symbol?"

"Continuity error probably."

"What?"

"Not important," Sam muttered, dusting himself off.

"So what you think Salvage is preparing sacrifices to Ammit? Picking victims who he saw as 'unpure' and offing them right off?" Dean asked as he stood beside him.

"Seems likely right? I mean, he could be providing for her. Like a deal. Dean she probably hadn't have been fed in years, and latched on."

"Damn. Okay, you go look for Salvage and I'll head down and-"

"Sorry boys, but I can't let you do that" the detective frowned as he clamped both hands on either of the brother's shoulders, Dean and Sam exchanging quick glances, wondering if he heard. "Gonna have to ask you to join the guests."

"What, why?"

"On the account that you two were here last night and we need to keep everyone we can in check."

"You're really gonna detain federal officers? Really?" Dean tried for intimidation.

But evidently it got him nowhere. "Just until we question everyone," he turned to Sam. "Starting with you."

"Go meet up with Cas and meg," Sam Whispered. "I'll head back when I can."

"Freakin' great," Dean muttered, slipping past the tape and shooting a final glance at Sam before heading down to the common room. But what really made him panic was overhearing a officer he passed by describe a possible weapon, a large, silver sword that had been found in one of the guest rooms. "Damn it, Cas."

* * *

Being in crowded rooms was not one of Dean's favorite things. Nor was being a suspect to a murder, especially when the real him was supposed to dead and when Sam was away for questioning. The cops had bought their undercover story but he wondered how long he'd be able to keep his cover.

Bumping past a staff member who seemed way too cheery for just witnessing two horrifying dead bodies he made his way to the buffet that had been put out to ease the guest's heads after seeing something so horrifying. Food was good, food was always right, and Hell, this was a damn resort, they had to have good food.

Right when he had a plate about full something heavy bumped into him, and Dean turned to see Castiel looking at him, several drinking glasses in one of his hands and eyes narrowed.

"Cas? Thought you'd be in questioning. They found your fucking sword by the way. Nice job hiding an incredibly sharp object during a fucking murder."

"My what?"

The simple, incredibly confused reply made Dean raise an eyebrow and look closer at the fallen angel's face.

"Are...are you drunk?"

"Of course not."

"Really? 'Cause you look kinda drunk Cas," Dean cleared his throat. "And uh, sound it."

"I am  _not_  drunk," Castiel repeated firmly, downing another cocktail and successfully grabbing another from the waiter's tray as he sped by. "It's offensive, you saying that over and over and over."

"We're on a case."

"An incredibly boring case, mind you," Castiel swayed a bit, ignoring Dean's stare and reached for the wine in back. He frowned. "I can't even taste this. Why does it cost so much? It's ridiculous."

"Whatever, have you noticed anything or heard anything?"

"The annoying woman with the stupid haircut was going on about how she heard about one of the other things doing something," Castiel blinked, eyes glazed and dilated so much that Dean could barely see the blue iris. "Went on about 'impurity'. I didn't care so I didn't listen."

"So descriptive," Dean glanced around. "Where's Meg? Seems like she would be pretty interested by now."

"I don't know." Castiel grumbled, obviously trying to keep himself from falling over.

"You're such a joy to talk to Cas," Dean grumbled. "Just uh, tone it down will you We might need you."

The angel held up a wine glass that was probably more full than it should have been and downed it, and with a tired sigh Dean rubbed his eyes.  _At least someone is having fun_.

* * *

Oh this was boring as hell.

The other couples had finally been rushed off, Meg kept her back pinned against the wall, Ruby's knife tucked into her hand and pressed against her side as she watched the officers pass by, muttering on about the scene. She'd heard Dean going off on Castiel and frankly she needed to see what the hell this was.

Moving quickly the demon made her way to the crime scene, watching moose boy talking to one of the other officers. She quirked an eyebrow when he saw her peer outside the door, watching him wave her in.

"And if anything comes up, call this number, thanks," handing the officer his card as he left the room around Meg. Sam turned to face her. "Why are you here?"

"Could ask you the same thing, Samboy."

"What are you doing here anyway, Meg? you're supposed to be with Cas."

"He got boring," she muttered, snatching the files from his hands and earning a glare. "I didn't get to see what the fuck happened here so I slipped away."

Sam huffed. "You're not really on this case."

She looked at him as if he offended her, "You'll work with the homicidle maniac angel but not little ol' me?" she blinked. "That hurts my feelings, Sam."

"You don't have feelings," he snatched the file, watching the demon carefully.

"Oh the contrary. I have lots of feelings."

"Don't care Meg. Also you're not even supposed to be here."

"You just wanna see me in handcuffs."

"Pretty sure Cas would want that more than I would," flipping through the file Sam turned away from her, trying to ignore her impatient grumbling when he heard a loud whack. Spinning back around in surprise he saw a shadow speed by, ready to attack the moment he saw Meg's body crumble to the floor, and then nothing as a stabbing pain swept the back of his head.


End file.
